


press repeat

by sssammich



Category: Victorious
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, One-Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-21
Updated: 2013-05-21
Packaged: 2017-12-12 12:24:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/811570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sssammich/pseuds/sssammich
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tori just feels like she's met this woman before.</p>
            </blockquote>





	press repeat

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even remember the prompt. But I was prompted for Jori and this is all I could come up with.

 

“I trust you can handle yourself for the rest of the night?”

Tori glares at Trina across the counter as she ties the apron strings behind her back.

“I’ve worked here for as long as you have.”

“Yes, but it’s my job as the assistant manager to make sure you’re doing what you’re supposed to do.” She rolls her eyes because starting her night shift with a frown on her face because her sister is kind of an idiot is not what she wants.

“Whatever. Just go away. Andre and I can handle this fine. We’ve done it a million times before.”

“Don’t make me report you to upper management,” Trina warns as she makes her way towards the door.

Tori snorts because Trina’s threatened to do that for years now and nothing has happened. “Tell Mom and Dad to give their poor child a raise when you tell them about me.”

Her sister places her hands on her hips and makes a face pretending to laugh along before quickly glaring at her. “Remember who has the assistant manager badge, Tori. Remember that.”

Tori mock-salutes her retreating sister before shaking her head in a mixture of mild amusement and complete frustration. Sometimes her sister can be cool to her, but then there are days where she’s fully convinced that Trina’s the spawn of Satan and that’s literally the only explanation to anything she ever does.

The swinging doors to the back creaks and she turns her head to find Andre throw a dishcloth over his shoulder.

“Trina the Tyrant making an appearance tonight?” he asks as he walks over to the bar stool so he’s facing Tori.

“But, of course! Beck turned her down again so she’s a little -- ” Tori imitates an angry cat and makes claws with her hands. Andre shakes his head, clearly amused.

“Well, let’s hope that the rest of the night turns out better than how it started, huh?” He raises a fist and puts it halfway between them. With a grateful smile on, Tori balls a fist and taps his with her own.

She hopes so, too.

* * *

Their hopes are squashed when they hear thunder above them. She makes eye-contact with him before setting off to the nearest window to look up at the dark sky. She frowns when she sees a flash of lightning brighten the horizon. Soon, large droplets of water are hitting the window glass and it tells her all she needs to know about how the rest of her shift is going to go.

She sighs before turning back around. “I guess it’s just you and me tonight, Andre. The rain doesn’t look like it’s gonna let up.”

Andre extends his arms and shrugs. “Well then if you don’t mind, I’m gonna go in the back and take a nap. Call me if someone ever does show up.”

“Ooh, if Trina ever found you sleeping on the job...” she jokes even as Andre makes his way to the back room.

“That’s why she’s never gonna find out.”

“Have a good nap. Try not to snore too loud like last time.” He waves her off and she just laughs before going back to the magazine she’s reading.

After a couple of minutes, she loses interest on the page before her and she lets her gaze wander out onto the pouring rain splattering on the window pane.

It’s another late night shift for her and she's struggling to keep herself occupied and awake. It's the price she pays for picking this shift to work. When it's busy, it's great. But when it's slow, she feels like the world is at a complete standstill.

Tori plugs her ipod into the stand on the counter behind her and plays it loud enough to fill the silence of the front room but not so loud that it interrupts Andre’s napping. She hears the first strums of the guitar and a smile appears on her face and as she starts dancing in place as she pulls the trays of unsorted silverware and starts rolling them into napkins.

“I wanna taste the sun, baby I'm born to run. I got a feeling that I’m not the only one...”

For a moment she feels like she’s driving with the top down towards the beach with the sun beating down on her and the wind whipping her hair. For a moment she forgets that she’s just a small town girl working the graveyard shift in a diner on the side of the highway.

* * *

A little after 1:30 AM does the Vega Diner get its first customer of the night.

Tori ceases her singing around the diner as she wipes down the tables when she finally notices someone standing by the front doors. She’s surprised to see anybody up and out at this hour and in this weather but a part of her is glad that another living soul is around them.

A woman dressed in all black save for a red plaid button up peeking through her leather jacket with dozens of zippers comes in through the door and stomps on the mat to dry her boots off. She shakes out the rain droplets from her jacket spraying the ground beneath her.

Toro stands from her spot and walks over by the entrance to the kitchen. She pauses. “Have a seat anywhere, I’ll be right with you.”

Quickly, she makes her way where Andre is lying on a makeshift bed on top of milk crates.

“Andre, wake up! We have a customer out front.”

Andre rubs his nose but doesn’t wake up. She rolls her eyes before punching him in the arm. He bolts upright in no time and looks around him with a surprised, panicked expression on his face.

“What?! What’s going on?”

“We have a customer. Get up and get to the grill.”

He glares up at her just as he tenderly rubs the spot on his arm that she punched moments earlier. “Did you have to punch me? That’s gonna bruise.”

“You wouldn’t wake up. That’s not my fault. I gotta get back out front. Go get ready.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he says, waving her off. She doesn’t wait for him to get up, she just heads back out to the front room picking her order pad and pen from her pockets on the way.

“Hey, my name’s Tori and I’ll be taking care of you tonight. What can I start you with?” she asks, pen and pad ready, as she waits for the woman to look up from her menu.

“The hardest liquor you have.” The woman doesn’t look up from the menu when she answers, just casually turns the page of her menu.

“Um, your best bet is Beck’s Pub about a mile down. The hardest we have is a triple chocolate milkshake. With a cherry on top.”

The woman puts the menu down flat on the table and looks up at her with a blank, uninterested expression on her face. Green eyes are staring right up at her and Tori momentarily blanks on her task. If she wasn’t already looking at this woman, she’d have done a double-take just to get a glimpse of her.

She offers her best smile even though she’s certain it’s coming across as awkward.

The woman sighs. “I’m already sitting down, so I don’t wanna have to do that.”

“Sorry, we don’t serve alcohol here.”

“You’d have better turnout if you did,” the woman mentions after taking a quick glance around the empty diner. Tori scratches the back of her head.

“Uh, can I get you something else instead? Water? Tea? Coffee?”

The woman ponders it for a second pursing her lips as she taps her perfectly manicured fingers painted in a deep dark purple on the cheap plastic covers of the menu. She closes the menu shut and hands it back to Tori. “Just give me the best waffles you have. And a cup of coffee.”

“Okay, thanks. I’ll be right back with your coffee,” she says, accepting the menu after she finishes jotting down the order.

She throws another glance back to the table where the woman has now occupied herself with a small notebook from one of the pockets of her leather jacket and have started writing in it.

* * *

“Pssst, Andre!” She tries to signal him through the serving hatch window but he’s far too engrossed in cooking the waffles singing and dancing at his workstation.

“Andre!”

When she tries to get his attention again, she makes sure she’s not noticeable but her efforts lay to waste because Andre doesn’t hear him at all. Tori shakes her head before marching back to the kitchen.

He pauses from his work and greets her. “What are you doing back here, Tor?”

“Listen, I have to tell you something,” she answers, ignoring his question.

“Okay, what’s up?”

She leans forward and peers just out of the serving hatch window. Confused, he does the same.

“What are we doing?”

“Staring at that woman.”

“Uh, why are we doing that?”

The woman’s focus is far too occupied with whatever is on the table in front of her to notice Tori and Andre’s eyes on her. Tori watches as a lock of hair that’s been previously pushed behind the woman’s ear comes loose and falls down obscuring their view of her face. The dark monochromatic choices of the woman’s wardrobe paired with her long black hair and the dark royal purple on her nails serve only to highlight the woman’s alabaster skin.

Tori knows that if she’d met this person at any other point in time since she’s been working full time at the diner that she’d remember her. But she knows she hasn’t. So the feeling in her gut that she’s somehow met this other woman before strikes her and confounds her beyond her comprehension.

Tori huffs before pulling herself back upright annoyed with herself for not figuring it out. “Because I just feel like I know her.”

Andre narrows his eyes at her.

“Okay,” he says slowly. She punches him in the arm again for making her sound crazier than she already feels. After rubbing the sore target of her punches, he steps away from her. “Why are we here creeping on her? How do you even know her?”

She lets out a frustrated groan before dropping her head back and staring at the ceiling.

“That’s the thing! I don’t -- I don’t know.”

Andre pushes her back. “That makes no sense. Is this one of those spiritual cosmic things Cat tried to tell you about? Because I’m pretty sure she got duped from that psychic with her brother at the state fair.”

“No that’s not-” Tori stops herself because she’s not sure what it is or isn’t. She just feels like she knows this person.

“Find out if you do or not, but right now you need to go away because I gotta finish this.”

Without another word, Andre shoves her forward and away from his workstation.

* * *

She fidgets around the counter trying her best not to stare at the diner’s lone customer who is still pretty engrossed in whatever she’s writing. Tori just wants to remember who this woman is and she’ll stop staring, she promises.

She practically jumps when Andre rings the bell at the window. Clutching as her chest, she glares at Andre smirking at her from across the divide. She’ll have to punch his other arm later.

“Order up.” His smirk turns into a smile when Tori glares at her again before grabbing hold of the plate.

For each step she takes towards the booth, she thinks that the plate is somehow getting heavier. By the time she makes her presence known in front of the dark haired customer in front of her, she thinks she’s about ready to drop the plate.

“Here are your waffles.” The woman pulls herself back and makes room for the plate. “Let me know if you need anything else, okay? Enjoy.”

The woman stares at her. No thank you for the waffles, no request for more napkins, no words. Just her green eyes looking at (and if Tori’s being honest, through) Tori. She can feel goosebumps trail down her spine and she resists the urge to shiver. Instead, she beams down at this woman before scurrying into the kitchen.

“So did you figure it out yet?”

“No but she was totally creepy outside just now.”

“Oh, like what you were doing for like five minutes while she waited for her order?”

Tori huffs before crossing her arms. “It’s not the same.”

“Okay, Tor. You keep telling yourself that. But keep telling yourself that outside because you’re not supposed to be back here.”

“What?! No, I can’t go back there.”

Andre shakes his head but otherwise shoves Tori out of his kitchen until her back collides with the swinging door to the main room. Andre retreats into the backroom and turns on the television to catch some late night shows abandoning her just a few feet away.

* * *

Tori’s first instinct is to look over to her customer who, luckily, is so immersed in her own thing that she doesn’t notice their shenanigans across the diner. Tori realizes that she should calm herself down before she makes a bigger fool of herself. So she takes the half-empty pot of coffee and walks over to the table.

“Refill?” she asks. The woman looks up and nods once at her before going back to her notebook perched on the edge of the table where Tori can’t see what she’s doing. Tori tries to hide her frown because she really, really, really wants to know what’s in that notebook. She doesn’t realize she hasn’t actually moved from her spot until the woman glances up at her from behind her long tresses.

“Can I help you?”

Tori opens her mouth but blanks on a proper response. “That’s what I say.”

The woman narrows her eyes. “I’m not the one hovering with a pot of coffee.”

“Oh, right. Um, I’m just gonna...just gonna--”

“You know, you’ve been staring at me for the better part of the last twenty minutes.”

“I, uh. No, I haven’t.”

“I’m pretty sure you have.” The customer points by the service hatch where she was, indeed, staring at her. “Over there.”

“Um, well you’re my customer!” she says a little too eagerly as she hopes that it’s a good enough lie. “I have to check in on you to provide you with great service.”

The woman leans back in her seat. “That’s not it.” The woman taps her chin with the end of her pen. “It’s something else.”

Tori bites her lip as she adjusts her grip on the pot of coffee resting on one corner of the table. She was planning to just go home and investigate in the privacy of her own home but she’ll take this as an opportunity.

“Well, I-you look familiar. Like I’ve seen you before from somewhere.”

The woman leans forward, a serious expression on her face, and stares directly at Tori.

“Do you watch porn?”

Tori’s eyes widen in disbelief and she opens her mouth but she cannot find any suitable words to say.

The woman’s expression on her face doesn’t change and Tori can feel her cheeks redden. Out of all the outcomes she’d imagined in the last twenty minutes of how this conversation was going to go, she hadn’t considered this.

Far too surprised, Tori doesn’t react at all when the woman rummages through one of her jacket pockets and produces a phone out just in time to snap a picture of her.

“I was just kidding about that, by the way,” the woman eventually confesses, her stoic appearance from seconds earlier replaced with a smirk and a twinkle of mischief in her eyes.

After a moment of silence, Tori gets her bearings in order. “Oh. Right.”

The both of them turn when they hear Andre cackling to himself by the window. At being caught, he offers an awkward wave before retreating back into the kitchen. When she turns her head, she finds the woman staring at her.

“I didn’t mean to bother you. I’ll just let you get back to your food,” she offers as she clutches at the coffee pot and readies to return when the woman stops her.

“Can I use the picture of you? For when I tell this story.”

“Um, yeah. I guess.”

“What’s your name?”

“Tori.”

The woman opens her notebook and quickly jots down what Tori can only assume is her name.

“Did you ever go to Hollywood Arts High?” Tori perks up at the sound of her old high school. So maybe she’s not imagining this after all.

“Yeah, I did. Is that-did you go there too?”

The woman shakes her head. “No. I’m not from around here.”

“Oh. So why’d you ask?”

“Why not?”

“Well I just thought that maybe that’s where we’d recognize each other from.”

“So you think we’ve met before?” the woman asks before she pops the last piece of her waffle in her mouth.

“I feel like we have.”

The woman rests her chin on her hand and looks at her, as if observing her, and Tori does her best not to turn away from the scrutiny.

“We haven’t.”

“Oh.”

“I’d remember.”

The shiver that Tori can’t hide is a direct result of how the woman arches her finely sculpted brow as she gazes up at Tori. And as if the last five seconds hadn’t happened, the woman sits up straighter in her seat and brings her hand down to push her now empty plate towards Tori.

“Can I get the check?”

“Yeah, sure,” Tori mutters, still a little dazed.  

The woman resumes her position writing in her notebook while Tori makes her way back to the counter with the plate and the coffee pot. Andre not-so-casually sidles up to her by the register right after she starts tallying up the order. “So? Did you find out if you knew her?”

“No. We’ve never met before. She said if we did, she’d remember.”

“Maybe you just mistook her for someone else. Lots of strangers do come and go around here.”

Tori bites her lip in thought just as she rips the receipt from the machine. “Yeah, maybe.”

* * *

Tori slides the tab on the table. “Take your time with this. There’s no rush especially since it’s still pouring out. Thanks for coming in. I hope you have a good night.”

The woman just nods before picking up the slip of paper without another word.

She picks up the remaining mug to the kitchen herself to put the dishes away instead of calling for Andre to get it. When she pushes the swinging door back to the front room, she finds the place deserted. She rushes towards the window and attempts to see through the onslaught of rain hitting the window pane and into the darkness. But all she finds are the faint glow of red tail lights as it makes its way out of the lot.

She sighs. She’ll probably never see this person again. Like Andre said, strangers come and go in the diner all the time. Even if she never got the name of this woman, they’ve now at least met.

She wonders how much of a pipe dream it’d be to meet again.

* * *

_Six months later_

 

“Tori!”

“Oh my god, Trina. What?” she asks as she finishes putting on her apron above her uniform after clocking in for her night shift.

“You have mail.”

She walks up to the counter to find an envelope the size of a greeting card with her name scrawled on it.

“Next time you want something delivered to you, have it sent to your apartment. You don’t live here,” Trina warns even though she’s standing right across from her equally curious about the envelope.

“Just go home Trina. I can handle it from here.” She glares at her sister and refuses to open the envelope until her sister leaves.

Trina huffs. “You better be glad that I’ve been in a good mood today or I would have confiscated this.”

“On what grounds?”

Trina hesitates. “...Homeland security.”

“Goodbye, Trina,” she says finally, rolling her eyes. Trina juts her chin up and turns to leave. It’s not until Tori can see Trina’s car’s lights from the parking lot that she bothers touching the envelope.

There’s no return address but it’s postmarked as New York City and it baffles her even more. She doesn’t know a single person in New York City to warrant mail.

Tori rolls her eyes before taking one of the steak knives and cutting through the edge of the envelope. She pulls the card out only to discover that it’s not a card but a picture. Of herself.

Panic strikes within her because she doesn’t know who took this picture but after looking closely at her stunned image, she realizes the picture was taken at the diner. It takes her a second to recall any moment in time when she’d allowed anybody to take her picture in the diner.

Then she remembers.

She flips the picture back but finds no note on it. She checks the envelope again for anything but she finds nothing. Thinking that it may have fallen to the ground, she bends over and surveys the floors to just in case.  

As she’s checking every inch of the ground around her, Andre pops his head out of the service window. “Yo, Tor. We’ve got a customer.”

She resigns to the fact that there probably wasn’t a note and slides the picture back in the envelope. She tucks the envelope in the largest pocket of her apron in exchange for her pen and order pad before she heads over to the booth. When she gets there, her customer is already busy perusing the menu.

“Hey, my name is Tori and I’ll be taking care of you tonight. What can I start you with?” she asks as she turns to a fresh page on her pad.

“The hardest liquor you have.”

Her head jerks up and she sees black hair and alabaster skin.

The woman, the one that she knows for a fact she’s met before, smirks up at her and Tori finds herself smiling back.


End file.
